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WITHIN A TEAR
Broken hearts and broken homes
Have often brough us tears.
Loved ones parting, scenes of death
Caused grief down through the years.
In youth we often sulked or cried
O'er some doll, or toy, or skate;
Our toy box was our universe, and
Intruders met their fate.
But our tears this day and age are few,
Our hearts too hard to cry.
And without this cure for hungry hearts
Our souls are parched and dry,
Could this be the reason why
Our converts are so few?
There's scarce a trace of tears upon
The pulpit or the pew.
I wonder what it is to weep alone,
As Jesus in Gethsemane,
His sweat ran down as drops of blood,
As He prayed in agony,
Oft before He'd prayed on Olive's crest
For the city He loved and knew,
He cried, "How oft would I have gathered,"
And 'twas all that He could do.
Oh, that we might weep as He!
Lord, teach us how to cry,
Break our hearts once more for souls,
Lest we ourselves should die,
Let us feel thy blessed presence, Lord;
Let us weep till Thou art near,
For Thou art never closer, Lord,
Than when found within a tear.
"Jesus, He Is The Son Of God"
Performed By
Margi Harrell
Used With Her Very Special Permission
Visit Her Web Site At:
Llerrah Music
It's Later Than You Think
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